"I thought the way Mrs. Levinson laid out that exam was too hard," Samantha told Randy as they left their math class.

"If you ask me, I think the woman isn't competent enough to teach a class," Randy commented. "I mean, there's a difference between learning and oppression, and that is definitely oppression."

She reached her locker and started turning the combination. "So what time does your sister come in?"

"About six o'clock," Samantha told her.

"Do you think the baby will arrive during Christmas?"

"It's hard to say. After all, everyone in my family was born later than expected," Samantha leaned against the locker wall. "It's hard to believe Ginny's going to be a mother now. I mean, it's to think of your own sister that way when she's been...well...you know what I mean."

"She looked her friend in the face. "She's not the only one coming in, though," she said with a bit of disappointment in her voice. "We just got word last night that the Donger's family's decided to come in for the holidays, so until New Year's, the house is going to be swarming with Chinese people."

"Is that our New Year or theirs?" Randy asked her.

"God, I hope it's just ours," Samantha grimaced. "I'd hate to have them here until February. Especially if they're as much party animals as he is."

"Oh look, there's Jake," Randy pointed down the hall. Jake was standing by one of the stairwells talking to Andrew...and Samantha's attention was immediately taken by the large cast on the wrestler's right leg. "What happened to him?" she asked out loud.

"Beats me, but there's a rumor going around that he broke it at a match last night," Randy explained.

"That's gotta be a pain," Samantha commented. Interested in Jake, she walked over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hi there," she said.

Jake turned around. "Oh, hi there Sam," he said with a smile, turning back to Andrew, he said, "I'll talk to you later, Andy."

"Sure Jake," Andrew said in a low voice. He looked abysmal. Samantha couldn't help but feel a little pity as the wrestler slunk away on a pair of crutches.

"What happened to him?" she asked Jake.

"Oh, well, he had a really rough night last night, Sam, but I think he'll get over it," Jake told her. "So, you still on for tomorrow night?"

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Samantha told him with a big smile. "What time are you coming?"

"Expect me around six."

"I will."

The manager of the motel Neal and Del had just left was cleaning out the refrigerator behind his desk when he heard the sound of the bells above the front door ringing.

"May I help you?" he asked, turning around. Facing him was General Blum's command. Colonel Champlin stepped forward out of the pack. "Have you seen two gentlemen, one thin with white hair, and the other fat with red hair?" he asked.

"So what if I did?" the manager said dryly. "What's it to you boys in the army?"

"That's not your concern," Colonel Champlin said with a threatening edge to his voice. "If you have any information, you'd be wise to tell us...right now."

"And if I refuse?" the manager said.

Colonel Champlin's arm shot out from behind his back. He grabbed the manager by the throat and lifted him several feet in the air. "This," he said.

"All right, all right!" the manager gasped for air, "they checked in here last night and left about three hours ago!"

"And where'd they go?" the colonel asked.

"I don't know for sure, but they said as they left they'd be having breakfast out before hitting the road again; check down the road at Walt's Family Restaurant!" the manager cried out. "Now let me down!"

"As you wish," Colonel Champlin dropped the manager onto the floor. "All right men, make for Walt's Family Restaurant at once." The soldiers marched out the door.

"Colonel, permission to speak freely," Sherman asked the colonel as they walked out the door.

"Granted, proceed," Champlin said without looking at him.

"Colonel, I feel that your display of...authority back there was totally out of line!" Sherman protested.

"Major, we have orders to do whatever it takes to get the general's codes back, including the forced coercion of witnesses, so just live with it!" Colonel Champlin snapped. Sherman rolled his eyes. He was never a proponent of the brute force that Colonel Champlin often dealt out to others.

About five minutes later, the soldiers pushed open the doors into Walt's Restaurant, guns raised. "All right, nobody mover or panic!" Lieutenant Maltin announced out loud to the restaurant. "This will all be over in a minute!"

"What the hell are you army boys doing in here!?" the cashier demanded. "We have a..."

"Listen, mac, just tell me if you've seen two gentlemen, one thin and one fat!" Colonel Champlin told him, flashing his rifle in the cashier's face. The cashier gulped. "Y-Y-Yeah, they were here at about nine this morning. They left about forty minutes later."

"And where were they going and in what?"

"T-They were on a truck headed for Paducah, or at least that's where they..."

"Wow, this is great French toast!" Lieutenant Maltin exclaimed out loud. He was sampling the breakfast on a nearby table.

"Stop it, Lieutenant!" Colonel Champlin yelled, discharging a blast at his subordinate that blew the plate of French toast to pieces and sending Maltin running for cover. "Call the general and tell him that we're going to follow them to Paducah," the colonel ordered him.

"Yes sir," Lieutenant Maltin marched over to the phone. He picked it up, then turned back to his colleagues. "Anyone remember the number?" He was answered with loud groans.

Back in his base, General Blum was busy going through some of his files when his phone rang. "Pick it up for me, Douglas," he called to his hawk on the counter as he threw some of the files into the nearest cabinet. Douglas hopped over and picked up the receiver for his master. "Yes," the general said once he'd picked it up.

"Good morning sir," Lieutenant Maltin said on the other end of the line. "We have traced those bozos whereabouts somewhere in mid-Ohio. It's thirty-one degrees here, we are at forty-one degrees north latitude, ninety-one..."

"Where are they, lieutenant!?" the general demanded.

"Heading for Paducah, I guess," the lieutenant told him. "I have a request from Colonel Champlin to use the MEKRAR satellite tracking system to trace their movements."

"Granted," General Blum told him.

"Oh, and uh, he'd also like the use of the dogs for additional tracking purposes," Maltin added.

"Fine. Expect them in about two hours." General Blum told him. He hung up and pressed his intercom button. "Now here this!" he announced. "Camby, activate the MEKRAR satellite tracking system; we're going to lock in on those guys. And Kael, ready the dogs for immediate transfer to the troops current location!" He leaned against his office wall. "Let's just hope that Maltin can handle what we give him," he told Douglas, who was now perched on his shoulder. "If we can get those guys by dusk, though, I guess I can overlook any bumbling he might do." He opened the office door and stepped out into the corridor. "Come on my feathered friend," he told his hawk, "Let's make sure this goes smoothly."